Dawn of the Knight: The Lance Rock Chronicles Volume 1.

by Robert L. Beck

  Chapter 22

  Steve cautiously walked over to the spot where I had dropped everything in the sand while keeping his eyes trained on me. He bent over and picked up my wallet while ignoring the change and the keys that were lying beside it. After spreading my wallet apart, he removed the bills and pocketed them. Next, he examined my driver's license. He turned to Danny and remarked, "He's from Ontario, Canada."

  "He's a long way from home," Danny replied.

  Steve put my wallet in his jacket pocket and picked up my bag. He reached inside of it and removed my digital camera.

  "This is an expensive one," he remarked, while examining it and smiling. "It even has your name engraved on the back."

  "It was a gift on my seventeenth birthday from someone very close to me," I replied with apprehension.

  He nodded his head in acknowledgement, grinned wickedly, and then turned and threw it out into the ocean! A surge of anger and grief shot through me and I lowered my hands into fists while adjusting my stance. Danny tightened his grip on his gun and said, "You just relax there, Superman. You're not bullet proof!"

  Steve then removed my smartphone from the bag and also threw it into the water. "Don't look so distressed, kid," he remarked sarcastically. "You'll be re-united with them soon enough. Now, walk on ahead of us up to the top of that ridge," and he pointed to the precipice that I had admired earlier and which had been the goal of this whole trip. "If you make any kind of move," he continued, "And I mean any kind, Danny will empty his gun into you."

  I trudged toward the cliff as a demoralized feeling mingled with dread began to overwhelm my mind. "How… did you find me?" I feebly asked.

  "The Ferrari, kid," replied Steve. "We'd been watching the house since early this morning and lo and behold, our target gets in that car and leads us straight here."

  "Why do you do that to Stacy and her daughters? Why do you treat them like that?" I had to keep my mind focused and questioning them would help ward off the panic that was now threatening to cripple me. They laughed and Steve asked, "What's it to you?"

  "If I'm going to die for having helped them, I guess I feel I've earned the right to know."

  "Fair enough," he replied. "Stacy is a bonus—candy that the Chief rewards to certain men who in his opinion, have earned it."

  I shook my head. "How can a man do that to his ex-wife?"

  "You said it, kid. It's his ex-wife. Nasty divorce from what I heard, since it was before my time. It went to court before a judge."

  "But even his daughters?" I asked, incredulously.

  "They also testified against him at the trial. He has no love for them. But he's not a monster. Up until this week it was only Stacy that we were allowed to… taste."

  "Eh?"

  "Yeah, kid, it was only when Stacy broke the rule and used what she had agreed not to, that her daughters became fair game."

  "What rule was that?"

  "The car; the one you just drove over here."

  "The… Ferrari?"

  "Yeah, that car has a motion-activated remote GPS tracking unit hidden in it. Last Sunday she drove it for the first time and it was tracked."

  "But… I'm the one… who drove it," I stammered, now feeling nauseous.

  "Then we can thank you for providing the additional candy for us," replied Danny, as they glanced at each other and laughed.

  "No… AJ… Shannon, it’s my entire fault," I whispered while shaking my head in disbelief.

  "AJ?" asked Steve. "I think that's the younger one who kicked Rico in the groin," he remarked while looking at Danny.

  "Yeah, Rico has something very special planned for her," replied Danny. "He said she's the one who's going to be hobbling around and need to see a doctor after he's done with her today."

  "Today?" I asked in shock.

  Steve glanced at his watch. "That's right, kid. They should be on their way over there any moment now. Oh, and Kyle told me to give you a personal message. Actually, he was really torn apart trying to decide what would give him more pleasure; doing this job or doing those babes. But… he chose them. He said, 'Tell the big-mouth punk that I'm truly going to enjoy taking away his fiancée's virginity, but that I'm not going to do it gently. Even though he won't be around to hear her screaming, please assure him that she will be—both loud and continuously'."

  I was rapidly succumbing to debilitating despair as we finally reached the top of the cliff. They motioned for me to move within six feet of the edge. Steve knelt down in front of me and began to pull out handcuffs and weights from the bag he had been carrying.

  "With this drop," he remarked while turning to face the edge and then peering over it, "You'll die when you hit the rocks below. With these weights attached it will be weeks before they find your body; that is, if the crabs leave anything to be found. When I was a kid they had a safety fence up here. I guess they got tired of replacing it every time young punks like you kept removing it. Lucky for me."

  My heart was feeling as heavy as the lead weights he was attaching to the cuff chains. I had brought more trouble on this family than they already had because of my impudence. I hadn't helped them at all. I had made things worse for them, and now for myself.

  "Hey kid, you look a little out of it," said Steve while laughing. "We don't have many hits your age. In fact, I can't remember the last time I had a target that was a high school boy; if ever. But since you were asking me questions, I have a couple of my own. The first one is: Who are you?"

  "Who am I? I'm… really… nobody; nobody… from nowhere."

  "Okay, Mister Nobody from nowhere. My second question is this: As far as we know you're not related to that family in any way. We're not sure of the exact reason why you're even staying with them. We know you're not engaged to Shannon and we also know that your father is not a police officer. Why did you stick your neck out for them the other day? Why did you, you know… protect them?"

  "I don't know why," I replied while staring down at the ground. "I found myself at their house by accident. I guess I helped them… because… I truly do care for them and because… it's what I am."

  He stared at me for a moment. Then while shaking his head and laughing loudly, he remarked, "No, kid, you're wrong! It's what you were! Now raise your hands so I can handcuff you."

  I made no attempt to move. Danny stepped up next to me and put the barrel of the silencer against the side of my left temple. He said, "You can go over clean or you can go over messy with your brains splattered out all over the ground. Either way, you are going over. Kyle asked me to make you suffer first. Going over alive and screaming would be the way I prefer as a favor to him."

  As quick as a cobra strikes, my left hand shot up and grabbed the barrel of the gun while twisting it away from my head and out of his hand! At the same time the fingers of my right hand, like knife blades, jabbed him hard twice in the throat. While clutching his throat, he slowly dropped to the ground with gurgling and gasping sounds coming from his mouth. I turned and pointed the gun at Steve. He gaped at me in astonishment with his mouth hanging open! Then while cursing, he quickly reached into his bag and after fumbling around, pulled out a gun, pointed it at my chest, and pulled the trigger! I had frozen in fear! Nothing happened, and as he laughed while flicking off the safety switch, I fired a hollow point bullet right through the center of his forehead! The back of his skull blew off and the impact forced him backwards over the edge of the cliff! I stood there shocked! Then I dropped to the ground on all fours and vomited, sobbing—overcome with emotion. I had just killed a human being!

  I rested there for half a minute while staring down at the sand. Finally, I forced myself up to a standing position. I turned around in time to see Danny charging at me with his face contorted in a murderous rage! He grabbed my shirt and pushed me toward the edge! As I was being forced back, I tripped over Steven's bag. While falling backwards, I grasped Danny's jacket. Then while pushing up and back with my arms and with my right leg in between his legs, I launched him
over the cliff. As I landed on the ground, my torso came to rest half-way over the edge! He didn't make a sound as he dropped 200 feet to his death on the rocks below. Next, after moving sideways and forward, I rolled myself away from the edge. I lay on the ground for several moments with my body shaking. These men have just tried to murder me! I thought. I was battling traumatic shock. My thoughts were in turmoil. What should I do? I forced myself to relax and calm down. The girl I'm in love with and her family is in imminent danger. I have to stay focused. I have to try and help them! I got to my knees. Noticing Danny's gun beside me, I grabbed it. Then I stood up and sprinted back down the beach to retrieve my keys and make my way back toward where the Ferrari was parked.

  Now understanding the trouble this car had caused—that it was nothing more than Gunther's tool to maintain his sick, psychological control over them—made me loathe it. But needing it to get back to the house, I jumped in and started it up. As I thought of the house, panic again, began to grip my mind. The girls were in terrible danger and I was far away—too far away! I had no idea if I would even make it in time. I floored the gas pedal. The car bounced over the rough path while bottoming out many times before I reached the highway. Please let those men want to first have a meal like they did on Wednesday, I thought. They were probably gloating, telling the girls I was dead—sadistically taunting them like before.

  Shannon, AJ, Stacy—my heart went out to them. If I could only get there in time! Once on the highway, I gunned the engine to maximum rpm’s. Immediately, the radar detector sounded off and it lit up like Times Square on New Year's Eve! On the spur of the moment, I came up with a plan. I would speed and have the police stop me. After they had pulled me over, I would explain the situation to them and also tell them to send someone over to the Muller's house. I quickly accelerated to 90 miles an hour—passing cars so fast it looked like they were driving in reverse! It didn't take long for me to see the blue and red lights of a highway patrol car in my rearview mirror. Out of the corner of my right eye I spotted Danny's gun sitting on the passenger seat. A red flag warning began to wave in my brain. I'm in a car that may have been reported stolen. My driver's license and all my other identification are at the bottom of the ocean in a dead man's jacket pocket. I also have a silenced 9 mm handgun in the car and I'm speeding. Did I really believe the police would listen to my story once I pulled over? I'd be arrested on the spot! I had no choice. I'd have to drive all the way to the Muller's house with no assistance from law enforcement.

  Traffic was becoming more congested and so I forced myself to concentrate harder. Scott had spent innumerable hours teaching me evasive-defensive driving techniques. He started teaching me how to drive as soon as my feet could touch the pedals. I was now going to put that training to the test. I began to weave in and out of traffic while continually shifting. I had to reach open road in order to go as fast as possible. Finally, I was clear of all traffic and I floored the gas pedal again. I glanced in the mirror and I was amazed to see the police car closing the gap! But he was still locked in by traffic and so I said, "Adios!" I pushed the Ferrari up to 100 miles per hour and I was steadily cruising along when suddenly a white Dodge Charger bearing California Highway Patrol markings pulled up behind me. I couldn't believe it! He had caught up to me that fast! I continued accelerating up to 130 miles an hour, but he was also maintaining the very same speed. He drew up alongside of me and I quickly glanced over to see two police officers sitting in front. The one in the passenger seat was frantically signaling me to stop and pull over. I shook my head no. His expression turned to deep disappointment. Both cars now had to slow down as we encountered more traffic.

  I weighed my options. If I remained on the freeway, I could make the best time. I was driving fast enough and I was in enough traffic to prevent the police from trying to use the Pursuit Intervention Technique maneuver. I didn't believe they considered me a big enough threat to warrant using it. I also knew they wouldn't try to shoot my tires out, either. However, tire spikes were a threat. If I ran over them and blew my tires out, it would be all over for me and the girls. I decided to maintain my present course of action. I accelerated and pulled out of traffic into the opposing lane. Once again, I was doing over 100 miles an hour. Three minutes later, I saw a momentary flicker of red and blue lights on the horizon. After spotting an exit, I instantly swerved back over into my own lane while braking and downshifting at the same time. The sound of honking horns and screeching tires from angry drivers filled the air as I quickly guided the car over toward the exit ramp! The Ferrari began to spin, and so I expertly counter-steered to compensate before almost losing control of it! I saw the patrolman in the Charger shaking his head in astonishment as he flew on by me. He hadn't anticipated my doing such a dangerous maneuver at the last possible second and he couldn't follow me in time. While sitting at the red light at the end of the exit ramp, I programmed the Muller's address into the GPS unit.

  I was now on the outskirts of Santa Barbara and making great time by not stopping at any red lights or stop signs! However, it didn't take long for me to see and hear another patrol car in my rear view mirror. This was local law enforcement. They must have known who I was because he immediately attempted a P.I.T. maneuver. I accelerated at the last possible second and he missed. He was soon joined by a second car and together, they attempted to box me in. I had anticipated this move as well and I again, floored the gas pedal at the last possible moment to escape. In my rear and side view mirrors I could see the angry, frustrated expressions on their faces. It was time to ditch them. I took off down a side street while sharply zigzagging left and right at intersections and alleys. The GPS unit which was programmed with a female voice was doing its best to keep up with my driving. Although I'm sure it was only my imagination, it sounded as if there was a tone of exasperation in its voice as it continually made corrections based on my last minute direction changes!

  I was now rapidly approaching the house. I knew the Lincoln Town Car would most likely be parked in the same spot as it had been the last time they had visited. The adrenalin enhanced car ride had completely driven fear out of my mind. In its place was anger—anger directed at those people who had tried to kill me and who were trying to traumatize people whom I cared deeply about. The thought that I might be too late fueled my anger into rage. These maggots were not going to leave unpunished! I would make sure of it. But how was I going to stop them? That's when I devised the most reckless, treacherous plan that I had ever conceived. If the Town Car was still there, I was going to make sure it would never be able to drive away. I would destroy both it and the Ferrari in one single strike!

  Scott had once discussed with me how to escape out of a moving car. I say discussed, because as he had remarked, "Lance, you just don't practice jumping out of a speeding car!"

  "Have you ever done it?" I asked him in the middle of our talk.

  "Only once."

  "How fast was it going?"

  "Honestly, I don't remember. But it was fast."

  He then explained to me how to do it—how to jump out of a moving vehicle and survive. There was something else he had told me that was incidental to this lesson that day, but I couldn't immediately recall what it was.

  There was a median strip on the Muller's street that separated the north and south bound lanes. It had flowers, shrubbery, and trees growing on it—providing a good, relatively soft spot to jump onto. I removed the key chain from around my neck and stuck it into my back pocket. I took the gun off the passenger seat and tucked it into the back of my shorts. After swerving around a corner and turning onto their street, I estimated I was now approximately one quarter mile away. I could see in the distance, the black Lincoln Town Car parked where I had anticipated it would be. As I neared it, I could also see a man standing in front of it. Actually, he had one foot on the back bumper and he was smoking a cigarette. It was Rico!

  I floored the gas pedal and the car accelerated to 60 miles an hour. I set the cruise control and th
en I reached behind the back seats and retrieved the targa top plate. Rico glanced up as I bore down on him, now only about 100 yards away. He smiled, probably thinking it was Danny or Steve. I steered the car toward him. His expression changed to one of concern, and then to one of horror as the car zeroed in on him. At 25 yards away, I stood up on the front seat and waved to him while flashing a big grin. He pulled out his gun and as he started firing, I held the top plate in front of my face and jumped. Bullets shattered the front windshield while whizzing on by me. I came into contact with the ground while hearing the sound of exploding metal, glass, and plastic all mingled with a horrifying scream! The top plate was torn out of my hands by the force of the impact, so I instinctively covered my face. My body was now rolling along the ground at 60 miles an hour—a human hyper-tumbleweed!